


To Us

by angelsandbrowncoats



Series: Nygmobblepot Week 2019 [1]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Betting on Relationships, Fluff and Crack, Light Angst, M/M, Nygmobblepot Week 2019, the rogues live to vex oswald
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-12-06 22:34:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18226295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsandbrowncoats/pseuds/angelsandbrowncoats
Summary: Oswald hosts all the Rogues and their more trusted henchmen for the Iceberg Lounge's twenty-year anniversary celebration. Unfortunately for him, the topic of choice among the Rogues seems to be his love life.Day 1: Rogues' Gallery





	To Us

**Author's Note:**

> This is much shorter than the story I wanted to write, but I'm crazy behind on Nygmobblepot week this year rip. And I had such fun ideas, too. Well, anyways, I pulled this together out of my original plan. Enjoy!

“The Iceberg Lounge has been opened – is it four times now?”

 

“Five, actually,” Edward leaned in to correct.

 

“Ah yes, the Iceberg Lounge has been opened five times,” Oswald began again, addressing the large crowd of people gathered beneath his balcony, “And with any luck, the fifth time was the charm. But this is Gotham. You are all Gothamites, whether you were born here, landed here, or something else. And as Gothamites, you know that there is no such thing as luck in Gotham.”

 

There were knowing hums and snorts throughout the crowd, villains and henchmen alike reminiscing over their lowest moments.

 

“But while there may not be luck for the likes of us, we have something much better. We have fortitude! We have strength! We have determination and persistence! God forbid the Bat come crashing through my window _again_ , but if he did, I would buy a better one. We’ve all been there. We’ve all been knocked down again and again by the cretins who claim to protect this city. But we are as much a part of Gotham as anyone, and when they pushed us to the ground, we pulled it together, we got back up, and then we shot them in the head!”

 

Cheers ricocheted through the crowd at that. Oswald let them die down before he continued, “It has been twenty years to the day since the Iceberg Lounge had its first grand opening. In those two decades, we have fought with each other and by each other and for each other. We have risen and fallen and risen again. We have nearly died. Some of our fellows _have_ died.

 

And none of us know what the future holds. Perhaps we will follow them. Certainly we will try to send each other that way now and again. But for all we fight and bicker, we are yet united. We are united in opposition to the morons at the GCPD and the self-righteous colony of Bats and any other threat to our beloved Gotham – besides ourselves, of course!

 

In these last two decades, the Iceberg Lounge has stood as a pinnacle of high society night life, but also as a safe haven for any I am fortunate enough to call friend or ally. Whatever we have been to each other, whatever we are, and whatever we will be, that is what you are to me tonight! We are among friends and allies. We are putting the machine guns and rocket launchers and toxic chemicals aside and instead raising glasses to ourselves and each other. There will be no backs getting stabbed tonight, only the steaks my wonderful cooks have provided for us all.

 

Tonight, we celebrate twenty years of the Iceberg Lounge, we celebrate twenty years of progress, we celebrate twenty years of the Rogues. To our failures but more importantly our successes in the past two decades, to the wonderful potential of the decades to come, and _most_ importantly, to us!”

 

“To us!” the Rogues repeated, glasses raised in a sea of shimmering glass and liquid gold.

 

“Now, we’ve come together for a night of food and entertainment. We’ve worked hard enough to keep the Bats and the GCPD busy for the next week at least. All that’s left is to dig in, enjoy ourselves, and remember: play nice!”

 

People clapped as the waiters skated to each table with the first course. The night was the biggest team effort the rogues had possibly ever put together. Oswald, naturally, provided the service and the venue. Basil had hired some old friends of his to put on a skit during the main course, mocking the law enforcement and vigilantes of Gotham. Ivy had insisted on acquiring the food, following whatever procedure she followed when it came to consuming her precious plants. Everyone who hadn’t contributed something specific had participated in setting up the massive wild goose chase that currently occupied their usual nemeses.

 

“How was I?” Oswald asked quietly as he and Edward descended the stairs to the main Rogues’ table.

 

“Charismatic as always,” Edward complimented, “Enough to meet all your goals and more. The newcomers will certainly be assured of your position as the moderator of the Rogues’ Gallery.”

 

Oswald turned a charming smile on the crowd as they neared it, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, my dear.”

 

“Awfully familiar, huh, Penguin,” Selina piped up as they took the remaining two seats at their table.

 

“I’m sorry?” Oswald asked innocently. Selina shrugged, playing with her food, “I don’t recall you calling your friends and allies “my dear,” is all.”

 

“Did I say that?”

 

The Rogues around the table nodded, regardless of whether they’d actually heard him or not. Oswald pursed his lips, “Well, I suppose it was just a slip of the tongue.”

 

“Come on, you guys don’t have to hide from us,” Waylon spoke up.

 

“Hide what?” Oswald asked at the same moment Harvey said, “Well we, for two, don’t care to know.”

 

“Don’t play dumb, Ozzie,” Barbara smirked, “It’s common knowledge that you and Ed have been shacking up for years.”

 

Oswald choked on his glass of wine, taking the napkin that Edward seemingly pulled out of thin air to hand him. The latter man looked redder than usual, himself, despite a lack of spilt wine. He said nothing, though, only sitting back when Oswald rolled his eyes and replied, “Don’t be ridiculous, Barbara. Ed and I are close friends with a long and complicated past, nothing more.”

 

“I’m with Harvey,” Ivy spoke up, “I don’t care.”

 

“Bullshit.”

 

Oswald would have to thank Jonathan sometime, he decided, as all eyes snapped to him.

 

“Excuse me, Crane?”

 

“Harleen told me exactly how much money you bet on their relationship status.”

 

Scratch that, all the Rogues could perish for all Oswald cared.

 

“Do you mean to tell me there’s a betting pool amongst the Rogues on my personal affairs?”

 

“Not just us,” Harley added helpfully, steadfastly ignoring Ivy’s glare, “there are a bunch of henchmen in on it, too.”

 

“And what exactly are these bets?”

 

“I put four thousand on fuck buddies,” Zsasz said cheerfully. Oswald’s hand twitched toward the knife he had _just_ told everyone was for steaks and steaks alone.

 

“What else?” he growled.

 

“Victor and I put a thousand each on true love,” Harley piped up.

 

“Two-Face bet on both hate sex and unrequited love,” someone added.

 

“Ivy thinks it’s _mutual_.”

 

“What’s mutual?”

 

“The unrequited love. Or supposedly unrequited.”

 

“Jon bet that you popped the question after a heist.”

 

“Waylon thinks it’s on-again off-again.”

 

“I’m with Waylon.”

 

“So are half the henchmen.”

 

“Except that one,” Selina snorted. Oswald frowned, “Which one?”

 

The Rogues fell suspiciously silent, many looking like they were trying and failing to contain their humor. Finally, Jonathon, whose only tell that he was cracking up was a slight crinkle in the corner of his eyes, told him, “About seven years ago, one of Edward’s henchmen placed a bet for thirty-thousand dollars that you two were married. Claimed he had it on good authority that you had kinky sex, too.”

 

“Dear god.”

 

“Now that part I can believe, but y’ain’t the marrying type, Cobblepot.”

 

“Enough!” Oswald yelled, “This is a celebration of our operation as Rogues, not a speculate-about-the-Penguin’s-love-life party.”

 

Some of the Rogues laughed, but as Oswald moved to return to his food, Edward stood up.

 

“Ed?” he asked, but Edward didn’t reply, walking back up the stairs to Oswald’s private office. Oswald sighed, before standing up himself.

 

“Congratulations,” he frowned around the table at the unrepentant faces of the Rogues, then turned to follow Edward.

 

He found him on the outdoor balcony, leaning heavily on the railing while he stared out across Gotham.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Edward twitched, but he didn’t turn around, “I’m fine, Oswald.”

 

Oswald joined him at the railing, hesitantly laying a hand on his elbow, “They’re just teasing.”

 

“That wasn’t the problem.”

 

“It wasn’t? Then what’s bothering you?”

 

Edward was silent for a long time, fingers twisting something on a chain around his neck. Oswald closed his eyes. Of course. It was a riddle. Edward had never been able to speak aloud his deepest thoughts and feelings, needing someone to work them out with clues instead. Oswald captured Edward’s hands in his, pulling the chain and the ring that hung from it out of his fingers and into the moonlight. Edward watched his face carefully.

 

Oswald pulled Edward’s fingers to his lips, kissing each one in turn before addressing the problem.

 

“You want to stop hiding.”

 

“The longer this goes on, the more pointless it seems! Everyone already suspects, the secrecy does nothing but force us to live in the shadows,” Edward burst out, before freezing, “I’m sorry. I know you don’t want it public. We should go back before the speculation gets any worse.”

 

“Wait,” Oswald said. Edward had a point. If everyone already suspected they were in love, the secret was as good as out. Edward had paused, waiting for whatever else Oswald meant to say to him. Instead of saying anything, Oswald pulled the chain around his own neck off. Edward gasped, “Oswald - !”

 

“What?” Oswald frowned.

 

“Don’t – I, I said it was fine! I can deal with my feelings, Oswald, please don’t do this.”

 

“Don’t do what?”

 

“Leave… me? Ask for a divorce?”

 

Oswald blinked at him, noting Edward’s classic torn and distressed expression before he snapped the chain in half, slipping the ring off and placing it on his ring finger.

 

“No one’s divorcing anyone, darling.”

 

Edward gaped at him, then at the ring on his hand, and then back to him.

 

“You – you mean?”

 

“Let’s go announce the good news.”

 

Edward smiled so wide it must have hurt, before rushing to kiss his husband. When he pulled back, though, his grin had turned sly.

 

“What?” Oswald asked warily.

 

“I have an idea.”

 

~          ~          ~

 

“Resolved your trouble in paradise?” Barbara asked.

 

“Something like that.”

 

“Well, we’ve agreed to set aside all talk of betting on personal lives for the rest of the evening, you’ll be glad to hear.”

 

“Actually,” Oswald said, “About that.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Would you mind terribly if we brought it back up, just for a minute?”

 

“Be my guest,” Barbara leaned forward, sensing juicy gossip on the horizon.

 

“Well,” Oswald smiled, “I’d like to place a million dollars on happily married for the last five years.”

 

The reaction of the Rogues was tremendous. Some whooped and cheered and clapped while others gasped, and a few slammed the table in disappointment.

 

“Well then,” Barbara said, “I wonder if that henchman is around to hear it’s his lucky day.”

 

“Oh, he is,” Edward smiled, “And he’s very lucky indeed.”

 

Oswald whipped his head around to stare at his husband, “You didn’t.”

 

“I _may_ have impersonated a henchman in order to… stir the pot. And make an investment for the future.”

 

“Wait,” Oswald frowned, “Didn’t Jonathan say you made that bet _seven_ years ago? I only proposed to you six year ago.”

 

Edward blushed, “Well maybe I was being hopeful.”

 

Oswald rolled his eyes affectionately, pulling Edward in for their first public kiss. This time cheers went up throughout the whole room.

 

“You guys are unbelievable,” Selina muttered.

 

“As if you and Bruce Wayne are any better.”

 

“Watch it, Penguin.”

 

Oswald opened his mouth to retort, when suddenly he was blinded by a bright light pointed directly at his face as the doors to the Lounge burst open.

 

“G-C-P-D! EVERYBODY FREEZE AND PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!”

 

“Just because my name is Victor doesn’t mean I can just turn into anyone else called Victor, officer,” Zsasz responded, quick as usual.

 

“Excuse me,” Oswald stepped forward, hands out to show his lack of firearms, “But what are you doing interrupting my party, Jim? Jealous you didn’t get an invite?”

 

Gordon stared around at the distinct lack of criminal activity for a room full of criminals, faltering as it registered.

 

“What’s going on, Oswald?”

 

“What does it look like, old friend? I’ve invited all of my friends and associates to celebrate twenty years of the Iceberg Lounge,” Oswald smiled as he spelled it out for Gordon like he was an idiot.

 

“Batman and I have been running around this city all night, only to find you and the whole Rogues’ Gallery here. I know that’s not the only thing going on!”

 

Oswald raised his eyebrows, “How perceptive. You’re right, it’s not.”

 

Gordon brought his gun back up to point at Oswald’s chest.

 

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, James.”

 

“What’s going on? What are you up to?”

 

“We aren’t just celebrating twenty years of the Lounge,” Oswald reiterated, walking back to where Edward was standing and intertwining their fingers, “We’re also celebrating five years of passionate, loving marriage.”

 

There was dead silence throughout the Lounge. Cops stared at henchmen. Henchmen stared at cops. Gordon’s gun was hanging uselessly by his side as he watched Oswald bring his and Edward’s clasped hands up to his lips. Speaking quietly, yet audible to the whole room, Oswald echoed his original toast, “To us.”

 

Oswald kept his eyes locked on Gordon, daring him to make the next move.

 

A minute passed.

 

And then –

 

“Fuck, I owe Harvey thirty bucks!”

**Author's Note:**

> Someday, I'll reply to all the comments I've gotten, but for now I'm going to speed write some more fics. That said, I still absolutely love getting them & they often inspire me to write more, so if you liked it, let me know!


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